Dreams
by riynariddle
Summary: Everyone has nightmares. But recurring ones about the end of the world? Draco Malfoy is scared. He needs help, but from the last person he'd expect: Harry Potter. HP/DM This fic is being co-written by Forfirith and I, so don't expect it to make sense! R/R
1. Chapter 1

A/N Well, this is Forfirith talking. Me and Riyna*Riddle decided to co-write a story, and she suggested I started it. So, here's just what's going on:

Whoever's turn it is, we write a chapter. But, there's a twist. We don't tell each other a plot, or anything. Any cliff hangers we leave, it's up to the other to continue, so in effect we leave ourselves on a cliff hanger, hehehe! 

This will be Harry/Draco slash. What else could we write about?

Riyna*Riddle: Ron/Hermione?

Forfirith: Yeah, but Harry/Draco is more exciting.

Riyna*Riddle: Indeedily.

Forfirith: DICTIONARY!

Lol, inside joke. Anyway, sit back, relax, and read!

**_Forfirith._**

****

***

Black clouds were beginning to form on the horizon. You could smell the rain in the air.  A dim red glow was cast upon the quickly darkening sky, and a clap of thunder broke out.

_Where am I? _A solitary figure stood, silent, watching the terrain around him. He was a teenage boy, maybe 16, blonde, with shining grey eyes, which were currently widened with disbelief and terror. _ What am I doing here?_

In the distance stood a tower, dark, and threatening.  It was the only thing for miles, apart from waste-land and darkness.

_What is this place?_ The boy began to shake. "Help..."

The tower in the distance seemed to be growing, and only then did the boy notice that he was walking towards it. Suddenly, he knew one thing: He had to get to the tower.  There was something about it, something that was drawing him to it.

He broke into a run, his feet pounding on the sandy ground.  He kept sprinting, not knowing why on earth he was doing this, on a small urge.

But the faster he ran, the farther away the tower seemed to get.  Beads of sweat began running down his face, trickling into his eyes, burning, burning...

Then he realised the burning was travelling throughout his body. He sank to his knees as the pain engulfed him, sobbing, whimpering, and finally he let out a single scream-

"HELP ME!"

***

Draco Malfoy sat bolt upright in his bed, breathing heavily, sweat pouring off him.  He took a few deep breaths, and began to become more aware of his surroundings.

He was safe at home, in Malfoy Manor – well, as safe as Malfoy Manor could be, anyway.  He looked around, trying to grab his wand that was sitting on his bedside table.

"Hello?" he called in a hoarse whisper.  "Is anybody here?"

Nobody answered. Putting his wand down again, Draco settled back down to sleep. He reconsidered, picked up his wand and put it under his pillow.

Just before he drifted off to sleep, he saw a flicker of a pair of sparkling emerald eyes.

***

"Boy! Get your good for nothing butt down here this instance!"

Harry Potter's eyes flickered open, and he groaned loudly. _Daylight already?_

"Boy, don't make me come up there..."

"Alright, I'm coming," Harry grumbled, rolling out of bed.  "You lazy fat-ass," he added under his breath.

"What was that?"

_God, his hearing's good. _"Nothing."

Still yawning, Harry opened his bedroom door and walked down the stairs, trying not to trip up over all of Dudley's things that littered the stairway. Skateboards, tacks sticking upwards and melted chocolate were some of the things that resided there.

"Make my coffee, boy, and this time try not to make it so strong," Uncle Vernon moaned from behind his newspaper.

"Yes, Uncle," Harry yawned again. _How late was I up again last night?_

Vernon looked up from his newspaper. "God, boy, you look dead on your feet," he exclaimed, proving that he did actually acknowledge that Harry was a human being.

"I just got to bed late, that's all," Harry said, putting the bacon in the frying pan.

"Hmmm."  Vernon said nothing more, just went back to his newspaper.

Harry tried to recall the dream he had had last night.  It was like a huge desert... and a tower... and there was a boy. A blonde boy, about Harry's own age. Harry hadn't been able to see the boy's face, he tried to get closer, but then the boy started running, towards the tower in the distance.

Just before Harry had awoken, he saw a pair of shimmering grey eyes.

***

"Mother?" Draco opened the parlour door, nervously.   Ever since Voldemort had risen again, Draco hadn't exactly been the happiest boy ever. He spent most of his time looking over his shoulder, and making sure no one else was in the room that shouldn't be.  

"Draco." Narcissa Malfoy, who had been once dubbed 'Queen of Evil' looked up from her book.  Draco and she both knew very well that if she was caught reading she would be severely punished – Malfoy women were supposed to be pretty and cunning, not pretty and clever.  Draco found this notion extremely sexist, but he daren't go against the word of his father.

"You asked for me to come, mother?" Draco asked, with no emotion showing in his voice. He had been trained from a young age not to care, to feel, or to love.

"**He** called," Narcissa could not have stressed the word 'he' more greatly. "**He wants you to be initiated with the Death Eaters by the end of the summer. Your father is currently arranging a date."**

Draco felt all the blood drain from his face.  "He wants me to...?"

"Yes," Narcissa said, and there was a streak of urgency running in her normally calm, proud voice.  "Which is why I have packed all your things in this bag," she pulled out a large rucksack from underneath her chair. "I want you to leave, son."

"Mother, I can't leave," Draco said in a high, panicky voice.  "Where will I go?"

"To the last place Lucius will expect you to go."

Draco's eyes widened to the size of saucers.  "Potter's." 

***

Riyna*Riddle, it is your turn to continue.  :-D

Please review? Pwease? I'll give you a cookie if you do!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Need I _really _say this? I'm sure you lot all know perfectly well I'm not jkr. Cause I'm not, you know. No really.

A/N:  coughs erm… cookies? I never said _anything _about cookies. You're gonna have to wait for Firry's next chapter if you want _cookies._

 backs away from glaring reviewers

okay, okay. Lady Vader, JJLL, Zahrah Radcliffe and Squiggles here are you're cookies. I ain't given them to anyone else though.

HA! Jking. Now please let go of my throat…

Anywho… This is the ultra-amazing and super riyna*riddle writing this chapter. Forfirith did the last one. PLZ review, or else I shall cry very hard indeedly.

Firry: DICTIONARY!!!!!!!

Riyna: Shut. Up.

Firry: HA HA HAA!!!

Riyna: attacks Forfirith with those ol' rotten tomatoes

Firry: AAAAAAAAAAAH!!! runs away

Riyna: cackles madly

'But _mother,_' whined Draco, totally not caring that he sounded like a spoilt 5 year old. 'I don't _want _to! I don't like him, and- and- and…' He trailed off, noticing the look his mother was giving him.

'It's not a matter of what you _want_, Draco,' she snapped, eyes narrowed at her grumpy son. 'It's a matter of what is _best _for you. And what is best for you is chosen by _me_'

'But it's not _fair_.'

'Life's not fair,' murmured Narcissa Malfoy. 'But I don't want anything bad to happen to you.'

'I know, mother,' Draco sighed, pushing open the car door (A/N: hey, Narcissa is smart. She ought to be capable of driving a car…). 'Love you.'

'Love you too.'

Narcissa waved at her miserable son one last time, and drove away.

Draco blinked. He was all alone now, and could only assume that the house he stood in front of was actually Potter's. He groaned, counted to 10 under his breath, and rang the doorbell.

~*~

The house, number 4 Privet Drive, was indeed the home of Harry Potter. Unfortunately, he didn't know just how damn much Draco Mafoy was going to appreciate that seemingly small fact.

A pity, as it would've surely brightened his otherwise totally crappy day.

Or maybe not. The point is, Harry was not in a good mood.

'Oh God. Not _you_!'

He had a headache.

It had all started this morning, when he'd gotten that stupid letter…

_Flashback_

Harry heaved a sigh of relief as the front door slammed. It'd been getting worried they'd never leave. Uncle Vernon had spent so long yelling at Harry about what'd happen to him if the house blew up, Harry had began to worry he'd forgotten all about the Exclusive Business Party and was just going to spend all weekend inventing various ways to torture Harry if the house did indeed collapse.

Then Dudley had spilt tomato sauce all over his freshly cleaned shirt.

But _finally _the front door had slammed, and Harry was free to do what he liked, which was more or less slobbing around watching TV. But at least he could have fun if he _wanted_.

And then the letterbox rattled. Harry blinked, and peeled his eyes away from Who Wants To Be A Millionaire. A letter? At this time if day?

'Is that your final answer?' warbled Chris Tarrant on the TV.

Harry yawned and padded out of the living room. Indeed, there was a letter lying on the 'Welcome' doormat. He picked it up, and turned it over. It was addressed to _him._ Who did he know who sent letters by the post???

Carefully opening the offending article, Harry turned and walked back into the living room. Or didn't…

'Ouch!!!' yelled Harry, rubbing his nose and cursing the closed door under his breath. 'STUPID USELESS…!' He glared, and went upstairs instead.

_ Harry- Expect a visitor for the final week of the holidays. _

_I suggest you keep him hidden, as your relatives are well known for their_

_dislike of wizards._

'Oh great,' muttered Harry. 'Just what I need. An unexpected visitor. Yay.'

It was than that the doorbell rang. And rang again. And again. 

Harry, cursing and tripping over his trainers, ran out of his bedroom (for once remembering to open the door…) and towards the stairs, in a desperate bid to put a stop to the ringing.

But…

'_AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!!!!!!'_ Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived and Wombat-Juggler-Extraordinaire (don't ask…), screamed in pain, surprise, pain and anger as he trod on one of the many discarded tacks that littered the stairs.

~*~

Draco Malfoy was having the time of his life. He'd never rung a doorbell before, and the experience was very exciting. So who could blame him holding his finger on the buzzer for a couple of minutes?

'Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!'

He paused, staring at the smoky window of the front door, and slowly removed his finger from the buzzer. That was the 3rd time today he'd nearly had a heart-attack, the 1st being when he discovered it was to the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Irritate he was heading, and the second being when his mother had told him he couldn't fit a Nimbus 2004 in his suitcase. A struggle began, resulting in the afore-mentioned broom being thrown through the vastly expensive window.

(For anyone who's interested, the broom drifted several miles and happened upon a burning building. After saving 5 children, a cat, and an automated piano, it went on to become mayor of a nearby village. A folk hero, it is now known as Brave Ol' Bill, and is seen as a legend throughout the county… But that's another story.)

And so he decided it would maybe be best if he sat down for a couple of minutes. Or until his heart started beating again. Which ever came sooner.

~*~

'Oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit…' exclaimed Harry, wobbling on the top of the stairs with one foot (in immense tack-pain) waving in the air. And with several curses, a lot of grunts, and a small scream, Harry crashed, head first, to the foot bottom of the stairs. It hurt. Like hell. With a big car, and a very loud engine. And some kegs of beer. Which might've explained why he felt so amazingly drunk as he pulled himself to the feet.

The doorbell still hadn't stopped ringing. Or Harry's ears were ringing. It was hard to tell.

So, at last, the door was pulled open, and Harry saw who was waiting on the wall.

'Oh God. Not _you_!'

_End Flashback_

Draco Malfoy blinked up at the teenage boy who had just opened the door. It was indeed Potter (sigh of relief), and it probably him who had given Draco his 3rd ever nearly-heart-attack considering the state of the boy.

'Look, I'm as annoyed to be here as you are to see me, so let's just skip the feeble insults and get to the point…'

Harry Potter, Master-Conversationist, blinked. And swayed slightly.

'You're Malfoy. You (sway) don't live her. Do you? (sway)'

'No, Potter, I don't.'

Harry nodded slightly, and stared in a most bemused way at the boy who sat on the wall before him.

'Potter?'

'Yeah? (sway)'

'You're bleeding.'

'I am?'

'You are.'

Slowly, Harry digested the new information. Several seconds passed, and Draco whistled a little tune (We All Live In A Yellow Submarine (by The Beatles) for anyone who's interested). Finally, Harry's brain clicked, and he reached up to touch his forehead. The slow trickle of blood seeping from under his hair got smudged and smeared down the side of his face. Harry carefully inspected his bloody fingers.

'Oh yeah,' he mumbled, smiling in a slightly confused manner, and he blacked out.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Hey, Forfirith is in da house!

Everyone: *groan*

Well, thanks to the reviewers. If there were any. I don't know because the reviews get sent to Riyna*Riddle, not to me. Ho hum.

***

"Potter? Po-o-tter? Wakey wakey!"

Harry felt somebody whacking him around the face and opened his eyes with a start. Taking no notice of the fact that Harry was evidently awake, Malfoy continued slapping the brunette.

"Hey!" Harry snapped, trying, and failing, to punch Malfoy in the nose. "Ok, what are you doing here?"

"My mother sent me here. Father wants me to join the death eaters," Malfoy shrugged.

"Of all the places she could have sent you, she sent you _here?_" Harry sounded disbelieving.

"Yup. That's my mum," Malfoy pulled a face. "So, this is where you live?"

"Yes. Malfoy, could you give me a hand?" Harry asked, pointing to the tack, which, in Harry's blacking out, had been forgotten, but was now back with a vengeance. 

"Whoa. Major owch," Malfoy nodded.

"Yeah. That's why I'd like you to help me _remove_ the sharp pointy thing from my foot," Harry nodded.

Malfoy did so, and received a huge yowl and a punch in the face from Harry.

"Hey!"

"You didn't have to pull it out so painfully!" Harry snapped, hobbling to his feet.

"Sorry," Malfoy shrugged.

"Humph. Well, I was forewarned about your arrival. Come in, my relatives are out at the minute."

"Where are they?" Malfoy asked, stepping into the hallway.

"Business meeting."

"Oh," Malfoy looked around him, observing his surroundings. "So... where do I sleep?"

"I don't know, I wasn't expecting _you_! I can't very well let you share my bed!" Harry spat, walking up the stairs, motioning for Malfoy to follow him.

From the living room, Chris Tarrant's voice could be heard, "Are you certain?"

Malfoy turned around at the sound of the voice. "What's that?"

"A television. I thought you wanted to take Muggle Studies, Malfoy?" Harry muttered, and Malfoy followed Harry into Harry's bedroom.

"I did," Malfoy nodded, "But my father wouldn't let me."

"Oh. Well, if you're supposed to be here, you can have my bed. I'll sleep on the floor," Harry shrugged.

"On the floor? Seriously?" Malfoy looked slightly surprised. "I thought the Great Harry Potter enjoyed being treated like Royalty, maybe I should take the floor, your highness."

"Bullshit," Harry shook his head. "You're the guest, I'm the host. You get the comfy bed, I get the floor. I'm used to it, don't worry."

"Used to it?" Malfoy looked up from his case, which he had opened, ready to unpack.

"Well, I grew up sleeping on crates," Harry nodded, (A/N This is true! When I went to WB studios, I got a closer look at Harry's cupboard under the stairs, and his bed is a duvet and some crates!)

"Oh!" Malfoy didn't seem to know what to say to that.

"Don't make a big deal of it," Harry insisted, "I was not placed upon this earth to be felt sorry for."

"Right."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"So, when do your relatives get back?"

"They're gone for the weekend," Harry said, "So we won't be disturbed for the next couple of days..."

"Good," Malfoy nodded.

"Malfoy, look, I-"

"Call me Draco," Draco said suddenly. "It's more comfortable that way."

"Right. Draco. I was about to say you could call me Harry, not Potter," Harry smiled weakly.

"Great," Draco flashed a smile back. "Um, I have one question."

"What's that?"

"Can you cook?"

Harry couldn't help it. He just laughed.

Leaving Draco feeling very confused.

***

"How long have you been a master chef?" Draco asked as they sat watching Harry's favourite movie, (The Matrix, if you insist on wondering), eating something very tasty.

"Since I was able to cook beans on toast," Harry shrugged.

"What's that?"

Harry laughed again. 

"Why do you keep laughing at me?" Draco seemed quite hurt.

"Because it's funny, your cluelessness about EVERYTHING."

"I'm NOT clueless about ANYTHING," Draco shook his head angrily. "Malfoys are never clueless."

"How many band members in Atomic Kitten?"

"Who?"

"A British band. And the answer is 3. They're quite good actually," Harry nodded. "But the point of the question was, it left you clueless. So hahaha."

Draco stuck out his tongue, and Harry imitated him.

"Don't imitate me."

"Don't imitate me." Harry grinned wickedly.

"That's not funny!"

"That's not funny!"

"Seriously Harry!"

"Seriously Harry!"

"Stop it!"

"Stop it!"

"Oh, crap..."

"Oh, crap..."

"You're a moron."

"You're a moron."

"I'm an idiot."

"You're an idiot."

Draco mulled this over for some time, trying to think up a witty reply. "I'm not going to dignify that with an answer."

"Then what did you just do?"

"I answered you- DAMNIT! Stop playing mind games!"

"Sorry."

***

Hmmm... I do that to my mates sometimes. It drives em crazy. Then they do it me. It drives me crazy. So unfair... *giggles*

Everyone who wanted a cookie for reviewing, here ya go! *hands everyone cookies* they chocolate chip ones! (cos by cookie I meant it in English terms, not American. So I just meant plain chocolate chip cookies.)

Review and you'll get a piece of cheese!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: yacka yacka…not mine…PEANUTS!!!!

Riyna*Riddle: *randomly throws cheese into the crowd* 

Crowd: YAAAAAAAAAAAY!!! *eat cheese*

Anywho… This is Riyna*Riddle, creator of the Almighty Blinking!Harry, for all those who care… 

*tumble-weed blows*

*cough* yah. Well. Here is chappie 4 (HURRAH!!!!) so enjoy, and review!!! If you do, you'll all get a slice of cake!!!

Draco stood, staring up at the sky. It was black. Blacker than black, and swirled like a great big whir-pool of doom. The clouds towered, and there was a strange red glow. Thunder rumbled, and lightening pierced the darkness.

'What the…' whispered Draco, staring across the great desert. It looked almost like the world was ending, and the sand whipped into the air like huge erm… sandy flames. The tiny grains burnt Draco whereever they touched him.

'Okay…This is a slight scene change from last time…'

The thunder rumbled in agreement, and once again Draco was near-blinded by a sudden bolt of lightening.

It started to rain.

'Holy mother-of-fu-!' exclaimed the irritable and soaked blonde. He squinted into the distance, and spotted the Tower. 'Dammit!'

But the rain was getting heavier, and it stung like the firey-sand. Draco cursed under his breath, realised there was no alternative (A/N: well. I say no alternative, I mean no alternative other than getting wet and ruining his lovely hair *gasp!* (Million other fan-girls gasp too)) and ran for it.

~*~

Sitting on the top of the Tower, Harry hummed and stared up at the lovely blue sky.

~*~

'OPEN THE DOOR!!!!' screeched a wet, burned, and intensely annoyed Draco, banging on the afore-mentioned door. The door, being only a door, did not reply, but continued with the very annoying task of Staying Shut.

'AAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!!' yelled the afore-mentioned Draco, banging his head on the wall. It rather hurt, but he was too annoyed to care. 'Why? Why????' he wailed, staring up at the swirling black clouds. 

He paused.

There was a patch of blue in the black.

Slowly, Draco backed away from the Tower, craning his neck to stare up at the sky. And indeed, right up above the Tower it was blue. A small round circle of sun and clouds and birds singing, directly above it.

It wasn't raining up there.

Quick as a flash, an Idea formed in Draco's mind. There was yet hope that his Hair could be saved! (Million other fan-girls cheer!).

~*~

Sitting on the top of the Tower, Harry hummed and stared up at the lovely blue sky.

~*~

Draco swore, discovering that Ideas weren't so great in practise, especially when they resulted in him clinging to a Great Big Dream Stone Tower by his fingertips. And it HAD been a good idea. Climb the Tower, get under the patch of nice blue sky, and save the Hair!

And now he had to go and discover that climbing Great Big Dream Stone Towers wasn't his special talent, and really, though he hated to admit it, he was quite afraid of heights, and much rathered it on the nice hard solid non-vertical ground. Just like that annoying sandy ground that was flying towards him at terrifying speed.

Draco blinked, and made another important discovery.

'Oh sssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii…' exclaimed Draco as he fell.

~*~

'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!' Draco winced as he hit the ground, then realised it wasn't the ground. It was, infact, his bed. Which meant he wasn't really in an Apocalyptic-Desert and his Hair was Not Ruined.

With a sigh of relief, Draco Malfoy rolled out of bed.

And so it was that Harry Potter woke up with the Slytherin's foot in his mouth, and the rest of afore-mentioned Slytherin sprawled rather painfully (for both of them) on, over and across Harry.

Not surprisingly, Harry attempted to scream, and then discovered this was slightly impossible with a mouth full of Draco-foot. Thus, Harry did the next best thing, and bit down hard.

'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!' shrieked Draco for the second time in 10 seconds. He quickly rolled off the smaller, angrier and very squashed boy, and lay on the floor instead.

'Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!!!!' continued Draco, but not as loudly now the initial teethlyness had been removed.

'You complete and utter moron!!!' squeaked Harry, discovering his long-lost breathe and voice once again. 'You- you- you… you Slytherin!!!' 

'What the hell did you bite my foot for?'

'You had it in my mouth!!!!!'

'Not by choice, believe me.'

'What were you doing rolling out of bed like that???'

'Attempting to forget my Oh-So-Very Twisted Mother had for some utterly unreasonable reason sent me to The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-Pathetic's house.'

'I hardly wanted you here!' hissed Harry, sitting up and glaring at the equally-glaring Draco. 'I was all set for a nice, quiet enemy-free weekend. And then, lo-behold! YOU had to turn up!!!!!!!'

'Well, excuse me for having a demented-psycho father who wants me to work for You-Know-Who!!!!!'

'At least you have a father,' hissed Harry, jumping up and marching out of the room, carefully slamming the door behind him.

Draco blinked.

'Well… that was unexpected…'

Hmmm… What shall happen now? Shall Draco apologise for rolling out of bed and onto Harry and THEN sticking his foot in the poor boy's mouth? Shall Harry apologise for biting the foot? Shall they all just sulk? Ho-hum. It's up to you, Firry.

And don't forget reviewers! A lovely slice of cake is at hand, if you'll only review this lovely fic!


	5. Chapter 5

Hello... my name is Laura but... you can call me... erm, what was it again? Oh, yeah. Forfirith. I've been going by that name for _how long now I don't know..._

Well, thanks to our reviewers... not that I'm sure if we've had any. Ah, well...

So, what's just happened? They had a row, right? And Susan told me not to make 'em publish... ^.^ Hehehe... Then told me not to let them make up...

Hey ho, here we go, dreamin' of Tom and me stuck under the mistletoe... *eyes glaze over*

And what did she promise you this time? Well... all I have is cheese.

***

Draco did not follow Harry down the stairs, for fear of being killed by the furious teen. Jeez, all he had done was rolled on top of him... then the jammy bastard just _had_ to bite his foot... And why the hell was he here? Godamnit, why hadn't he gone somewhere else, his mother hadn't exactly forced him to come to Potters.

"Ugh... I hate you Potter," Draco muttered to himself, just as his stomach gave a rather large grumble.

"Sh!t."

Ok, so now Draco was in this situation:

One. He had just had his foot practically bitten off by Wonder Boy after being sent there by his rather loopy mother.

Two. He was now stuck upstairs because he didn't want to admit defeat by going down to get food from the said Wonder Boy.

Three. He was bloody hungry.

And the first name terms thing hadn't lasted very long – what, a few hours? Now they were back to Potter and Malfoy again.

Well, Draco didn't really have a problem with that.

Downstairs, Harry was beyond pissed off. And it wasn't because Draco's foot had tasted of cheese.  Or that Draco had made the comment about having a  father. It was the fact that soon Vernon and the rest of his 'family' would be coming back. And that meant trouble.

"Ugh, why me? Why couldn't the asshole go somewhere else?" Harry groaned as he poured himself some cereal. "All I wanted was a nice, calm, relaxing weekend... then BAM! Guess who shows up at my front door? The spawn of bloody Satan! And look, he's got me bloody talking to myself! I'm going crazy!"

"You're right, my dear," his cereal replied.

"Thank you," Harry nodded gratefully, not noticing that he was talking to a bowl of Cheerios™.  "And he's so, 'I'm better than you, I'm a Malfoy so bow down to me,' it just... ugh!"

"Don't stress yourself out," the Cheerios™. "He's not worth it!"

"Humph. And I was having such a nice dream as well... I was sitting on the top of a huge tower, and there was a blue sky, and I was humming.  Quite a nice tune, actually." Harry tried to recall the wonderful tune. "It kinda went, Da da doo, doo da dee, doo da da da dee do da dee da da da da da da da da da, da da da da doo da dee."

"What, like, I love you, you love me, we are a happy family with a great big hug and a kiss from me to you, won't you say you love me too? The Barney song?" The Cheerios™ asked.

"Oh, yeah... the purple dinosaur dude?"

Meanwhile, Draco's hunger had gotten the better of him and he had crept downstairs, only to find Harry talking to... a bowl of cereal.

"Humph. And I was having such a nice dream as well... I was sitting on the top of a huge tower, and there was a blue sky, and I was humming.  Quite a nice tune, actually."

A blue sky...? A tower...? Draco's thoughts were brought to a halt when Harry began humming to the bowl of cereal.

"It kinda went, Da da doo, doo da dee, doo da da da dee do da dee da da da da da da da da da, da da da da doo da dee."

There was a short silence, when Harry stared down at the cereal bowl, then said,

"Oh, yeah... the purple dinosaur dude?"

Now extremely terrified, Draco rushed back upstairs, the blue sky and tower forgotten. It was now official: Potter was a raving loony.

Nearly an hour later, Draco came up with another theory:

Potter was a vampire who feasted on human feet,  AND an utter loony.

It took another hour to add the final part.

Potter was a dream-sharing (if he really had actually dreamt about the now remembered blue sky and tower) vampire who feasted on feet, and an utter loony.

Draco had half a mind to clamber onto Brave Ol' Bill The Hero Broomstick who had saved 5 children, a cat, and an automated piano, and then gone on to become Mayor of a nearby village, then returned back to Draco again, and get the heck out of there.

But Draco Malfoy was a Malfoy, and a Slytherin, and a very honourable one at that.  Running away would mean Potter had won, and Draco _hated_ being beaten by Potter.  It happened way too often.  Even his hair gel kept telling him that.

And if Draco had conversations with hair gel and Harry had conversations with cereal... this was a very strange situation.

And Draco didn't dare go down and ask Harry Potter Boy-Who-Lived Wombat-Juggler-Extraordinaire-Foot-Eating-Vampire-Dream-Sharing-Boy-Who-Talks-To-Bowls-Of-Cereal for something to eat.

So no wonder Harry found him passed out on the floor several hours later. 


	6. Chapter 6

HEEEELLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOO, ME DARLINGS!!! Aaaaah yes, 'tis the moment you've all been waiting for! FINALLY… The 6th chapter of Dreams has arrived!!!! Written by moi, yours truly, Riyna*Riddle!!!

As this fic was began before TOOTP came out, I don't think Harry is depressed enough as he should be what with him-that-I-shall-not-say-incase-any-readers-out-there-have-yet-to-read-TOOTP dieing and all. Therefore I intend to continue as I started. That's not saying he won't get depressed later though. Angst rocks.

I did have a chapter half written. Then my computer screwed up and Dad had to wipe the drive. Luckily, I didn't like that chapter much. So here is the new-improved version! Enjoy!

The cheese has gone hard. But I have some biscuits somewhere….

Oh, and a little note to the _lovely _Reviewer…. I am both old enough and wise enough to choose for myself with whom I write. And, myself, I greatly enjoy Forfirith's writing. I assure you, neither _she _nor I am are going down, as you so kindly put it. Finally, my dear Reviewer, I give you the one finger-salute.

~*~

Harry Potter was not normally an aggressive boy. Indeed, he had been voted 'Boy least likely to grow up a deranged and violent delinquent' 5 times in a row by Witch Weekly.

He was, truth be told, a calm, rational, reasonable, and even-tempered young man.

That didn't stop him enjoying 'waking Malfoy up'. Revenge, after all, is sweet.

'Wake… Up… You… Stupid… Fat… Moronic… Slytherin… Snobbish…. Bastard….!' Yelled the aforementioned Harry, cheerily hitting the unconscious Malfoy repeatedly in the face with his slightly deflated pillow.

Malfoy blinked, looked up, and was treated to a brilliant view of the pillow sailing down to meet him, trailing feathers.

He did the only sensible thing.

'EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!' scweamed the terrified boy, sitting up amazingly fast, grabbing the pillow and whacking Harry round the face with it, all in the space of 5 seconds.

Harry blinked (A/N: YAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!! BLINKING!HARRY LIVES!!!!!). Slowly it dawned on him that he was no longer in possession of his pillow. He blinked again, just to be sure.

Malfoy smirked, and hit Harry once more for good measure.

~*~

There are not many things out there that can be accurately described as 'the shock of your life'. 'The shock of a couple of years' maybe, or even 'the shock of several decades'. But 'the shock of your life'? 

Harry wasn't sure quite which of those categories finding your worst enemy passed out on your bedroom floor fitted in to. It was, however, certainly a very big shock, especially when one had only gone upstairs to see if he wanted and cheerios. But when Harry was positive his heart was still beating, he quite eagerly took on the challenge of waking Malfoy up again, whatever it took.

So it came to be that in less than 1 hour, Draco Malfoy had water poured all over him; _cold _water poured all over him; _ice-cubes _poured all over him; and, for some reason even Harry was not quite sure of, _jam_…

~*~

'JAM!!!' raged Malfoy, waving his offending T-shirt at the slightly-scared Harry. '_JAM!!!!_ WHY IN THE NAME OF ALL THINGS GOOD AND HOLY DID YOU COVER ME IN JAM??? I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW, THIS COST A LOT OF MONEY!!! AND NOW LOOK AT IT!!!! RUINED!!! _RUINED!!!!!'_

'I wouldn't say _ruined_,' began Harry, because everyone has to have something to fight for, even if it is only jam. 'More…. Jammed.'

'I WOULDN'T GIVE A FLYING MONKIES ARSE IF YOU SAID IT WAS COVERED IN GOLD!!! TO ME, AND ANY SANE AND SENSIBLE PEOPLE OUT THERE, IT'S _RUIIIIIIIIIIINED!!!!!!!_'

Harry slowly backed away. He had a feeling that when you saw the whites of someone's eyes it was time to run. That'd been about 10 minutes ago.

'JUST YOU WAIT TILL I TELL MY FATHER-' Malfoy paused. Harry smirked.

'Or else what? He'll come and make you a Deatheater at me? I'm so scared.'

Malfoy glared. Harry glared back.

The bowl of cheerios lay forgotten.

~ 54 MINUTES, 32 SECONDS LATER~

'HAH! YOU BLINKED! I WIN!'

'I did NOT blink! A fly flew into my eye!'

'You said that _last _time! And the time before that!'

'Nu-uh! The time before last time my eye had an involuntary muscle spasm!'

'Just face it, Malfoy! I am the all-time staring champion! I WON! YOU LOST!'

'I DID NOT LOOSE! A MALFOY NEVER LOOSES!'

'Then what's your excuse for all those Quidditch matches?'

'INVOLUNTARY MUSCLE SPASMS, DAMMIT!'

'GO HARRY! IT'S YA BIRTHDAY! GO HARRY!'

'IT IS _NOT _YOUR BIRTHDAY!'

'GO GO GO, GO HARRY!'

'I DEMAND A RE-MATCH!'

'IT'S YA BIRTHDAY! GO HARRY!'

'STOP DANCING!'

'MAKE ME!'

The cheerios were starting to smell funny.

~43 MINUTES, 51 SECONDS LATER~

'…4…3…2…1… YOU'RE _OUT!_'

'I AM NOT! I GOT UP!'

'AND THEN I GOT YOU BACK DOWN AGAIN!'

'BUT YOU CARRIED ON COUNTING FROM WHERE YOU LEFT OFF!'

'I DID NOT!'

'YOU DID! YOU DID!'

'I GOT YOU! I WON! JUST FACE IT, POTTER! YOU'RE A _LOSER!'_

'I AM NOT! YOU'RE A _CHEATER! _I DEMAND A RE-MATCH!'

'SO I CHEATED IN THE PAST 25 RE-MATCHES DID I?'

'YES!'

'PROVE IT!'

The cheerios were bubbling slightly.

~2 HOURS, 11 MINUTES, 16 SECONDS LATER~

'… So you see, there, see it? There. I was still in.'

'….'

'There.'

'….'

'….'

'You have security cameras in your bedroom, Potter?'

'No. I just magically zapped in a couple false tapes, and the ministry of magic are gonna burst in any second now and expel me.'

'Was that sarcasm?'

'Yes.'

'I'm impressed.'

'Why?'

'Didn't realise you had the brains.'

Harry blinked. Unsure of whether or not Malfoy had just insulted him, he ejected the security tape and turned off the TV. 

'What? No amazing come-backs? Not going to call me a _git_ or something?'

'I'm still not sure if you just insulted me. Try again in a couple of hours.'

Malfoy smirked, and began inspecting the Dursley's living room. It wasn't as small, or as disgusting, or as primitive as he'd expected. But it was still unavoidably Muggle, and therefore never going to impress him. He peered at the TV, and prodded it a bit, then busied himself with the curtains.

'Those are curtains, Malfoy.' Explained Harry as he slipped his tape into an old video box (A/N: The Magic Roundabout, if you must know. When the Dursleys realised Dudley would never appreciate anything without guns in it, they banished all the old kiddies program to the bottom shelf of no return.).

'I'm aware of _that_, Potter,' snapped Malfoy, fingering the green material. 'I was just impressed by how _hideous _they…. are……..' he trailed off, staring wide-eyed out of the window instead. 'Er… Potter…? Is your cousin amazingly fat and the exact likeness of a blond pig?'

'Yup, that's Dudders alright.'

'Indeed. And, erm… Is your aunt a scrawny, blonde, horse-toothed thing with a very long neck?'

'Yeees…' 

'And, um… Ah. Is your uncle big, with no neck and a generally angry red expression?'

Harry didn't answer. He instead joined Malfoy at the window.

'Oh shit….'

He turned to stare at the Slytherin, and saw his exact same terrified expression staring back at him.

'_They're back!_'


	7. Chapter 7

A/N *does a merry jig* hahaha... eet ees Feerry's turn to do zee honeers weeth thee story-ee. Zerefore, I 'ave adopted a ridicolous-ee-ly bad Franch acceount... becoos a am a raveeing loo-nee-tic. Bonjour.

R*R: Um, yeah, whatever Firry... translation?

Lets try again *rewinds tape*

A/N *does merry jig***** hahaha... it is Firry's turn to do the honours with the story. Therefore, I have adopted a ridiculously bad French account (er, accent, I mean... I have nothing against French bank accounts...)... because I am a raving lunatic. Hello.

R*R: Yeah, whatever... translation?

Firry: *pulls face* Oh, very funny, I'm sure, dear R*R... That was perfect English.

R*R: That's what you think...

Firry: *glares, and, now smiling sweetly, gives crowd some fruit*

*Firry gets pelted with fruit*

*Firry hands out _proper_ food... lots and lots of chocolate biscuits*

***

"Shit, shit, shit, we've gotta hide you!" Harry hissed, pulling Draco away from the window and steering him upstairs. "Walk, Draco, please, it'd make my life so much easier..."

"Oh!" Draco gave a mock gasp, "Oxygen... not reaching blood cells. Vision fading... heart slowing... gravity is taking affect upon me..."

"No it's not!"

"Is too, Potter, the same thing happened yesterday."  And Draco collapsed in Harry's arms.

Harry blinked.

The front door swung open with a crash, and Uncle Vernon came storming in, followed by Petunia and a handsome young blonde... oh, and Dudley too, my mistake, Draco's already inside...

There was a split second when everyone was silent, then Vernon screamed, Petunia screamed, and Dudley ran to the kitchen to get some ice-cream, came back – and screamed.

Harry, not wanting to be left out, screamed as well.

"ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHH!" (That was Vernon)

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" (That was Petunia)

"*snort* *munch* AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! *snort* *munch*" (that was Dudders)

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" (That was Harry)

"RRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHGGGGGG!" (That was... Well, I'm not sure what it was. Possibly brave ol' Bill).

The screaming stopped, and they all looked around at each other.

"Who-is-that?"

"Er, er, er, my, er... er, er, er, my, er..." Harry was hoping that repeatedly saying 'er' would buy him time.

And it did, amazingly enough.

"He's, er, a boy, who, I, er, know, and, he, er... he's my Science Experiment!"

Vernon blinked. "You learn Science?"

"Well, er, yeah, in a manner of speaking," Harry gabbled, "Er, this isn't a boy, he's a, um, ferret!"

"Excuse me?" Draco opened his eyes, and blinked. "I am *not* a ferret!"

"See, he's in denial!" Harry nodded, "I was just taking him upstairs..."

There was a silence.

"Slurp... munch..."

And more silence.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Dudley was slightly slow on the 'we've stopped screaming' uptake.

"Duddy-kins!" Petunia swooped down on her son and gave him a huge, great, big, huggy-wuggy. "There, there, don't let the ferret-boy frighten you!"

"I'm not a bloody ferret!" Draco hissed with rage.

"Yeah, come on, Big D, he's half your size anyway," Harry grinned.

Then, half pulling Draco with him (Draco was learning how to walk again) they both dashed upstairs.

As soon as the door shut, Draco rounded on Harry.

"A FERRET?!"

***

Downstairs, the Dursley's were recovering from slight shock.

"A ferret?" Petunia mumbled feebly, and fainted.

"A... another _freak boy_?"  Vernon muttered, then fainted.

A silence.

"No more ice-cream?" Dudley wailed, staring at the empty carton in his hands... and fainted.

***

-.- Ice-cream, anyone?


End file.
